Mrs. Flinger: A work in progress

UPDATE TO Mrs. Flinger October 16, 2015

Because the Universe has a wicked sense of humor, after this delcaration, my blog threw up all over my last upgrade.

So I'm starting over using Craft. Turning 40 and kid entering Jr High next year, sometimes it's just time for a change. These archives will still exist in the way the last child goes off to college and their room is the same for 20 years, but it's just time to move forward.

The GIANT! UPDATE! OF DOOM! Dec 27, 2009

#Family Life

This is how my vacation has gone thus far:

Things I plan to do today
- Some work for Catapult’s end days.
- Bake some bread
- Organize the copious amounts of shit in our house for the impending move.
- Workout
- Do some laundry
- Clean the bathrooms
- organize the office stuff before the start of the new year

Things I actually do in a day
- Play Mario Kart
- Take a nap

I impress with my skills.

We’ve had a rough go trying to kick a virus’s ass. The boy? Has been taken over by a large! motherfucking! virus! of doom!

Or some alien.

Merry Effing Christmas! From the trenches at toddlerhood from Mrs. Flinger on Vimeo.

Or Mario. I dunno. I forgot what real people look like.

We also realized we aimed a bit too low for this christmas. Behold: Our Christmas Wreath!


Yes, that’s right.

In other news, the Boy is without a diaper today. It’s telling when you feed your two year old son a candy cane where his sticky fingers end up.

You can even say we caught him red handed.


We hope your Christmas was as merry as possible and that your naps restored you and the Cheerios remain on your floor. Because that would make me feel so much better.


{W}  -  In an attempt to not be too Amy Grant, My Best Christmas Gift Dec 22, 2009

I’ve struggled with this week’s challenge, which is ironic since I came up with it. Challenge it is, though, as whatever I had in my mind at the time of creating it is long since slipped.  “My Most Memorable Christmas Gift.” It seems silly to think back, even sillier to remember what hit my top list in years past. So excuse the christian-singer-turned-secular-after-a-divorce-cheesy-christmas-list-song-ish of this post, but it’s all I can think of.

And it’s everything.

This is the year I’m most thankful. This year. This is my most memorable Christmas. I have two healthy children. I have a fantastic marriage, a husband who supports and cares and loves us all. I have a job I love, clients who became friends, friends who support me.  I have real people, genuine friends, and enough food in my kitchen. I have a new house that our family can’t wait to move in to. I have my parents, my in-laws, a sister whose family I enjoy and a brother-in-law who married a gal I like and is raising two kids of his own.

I want for nothing. It’s the best Christmas Present ever.


Join us in a challenge to write weekly at Write Of Passage where we encourage each other, grow as writers, and try new topics. Here are other essays in this week’s challenge:

An update: Clean Eating Flinger Style Dec 21, 2009


As it turns out, one can gain weight if one cooks all natural, whole, delicious home-cooked meals all the time.



Mylands but it’s so good.

I found an article I wanted to share with you. Clean Eating: Why Eating Clean Is The Unfad Diet That Works. I thought it has a pretty good run-down on the principles behind clean eating.

I’ve also decided I may need to take up another sport. Comon, folks, I’m lying to myself here. Do you really gain five pounds eating healthy? OR is it that you don’t workout as heartily as you once did and thus your calorie needs have dropped while your yummy food factor went up? I have a few friends that are in to bike racing. Manual Bike Racing, that is. As in road bikes. I don’t know if I’m one to be in to bike racing or not, but I like the idea of having a team to ride with, the easy-on-the-knee exercise and the hope that one day I can use my own two legs to get from Way Out Here to In To Town for work is a pretty neat goal to have.

I’ll let you know.

For now I might try to stay more on lines with this “sample” the article above lays out:

So under the Clean Eating approach, your meals for the day might look like this:

  • Breakfast: Bowl of oatmeal with fresh fruit and scrambled egg whites with one whole egg
  • Morning Snack: And apple with almond butter
  • Lunch: Sliced chicken breast (from a home-cooked chicken breast, not deli lunchmeat) on Ezekiel 4:9 sprouted grain bread with lettuce and tomatoes and a side salad with olive oil and vinegar dressing
  • Afternoon Snack: Low-fat, low-sugar homemade granola
  • Dinner: Salmon filet with herbed brown rice and steamed asparagus in Dijon mustard sauce
  • Evening Snack: Cup of low-fat cottage cheese with a handful of almonds

{W}: Lunch Box Dec 15, 2009


It’s that time of week again when I get all excited and horny seeing all the people that participate in the {W}rite-of-Passage challenge.

Except this week I’m going to pass myself because SOME PEOPLE totally wore me out and by wore me out I mean whore me out in Vegas.

Me n V

56 degrees poolside.





But here are the people who are much more awesome than I am. Please sign up to participate and to be critiqued.

Flinger’s Creed Dec 13, 2009



I grew up reciting the Apostles Creed every Sunday. I can still turn my mind off and repeat the prayer verbatim. Ironically, as I’m sitting in Sin City with a group of people I met online, I find myself creating a new creed.

A “Flinger Creed”, if you will.

We don’t believe in the Gods of Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Christian Scientist or Judaism.
We believe in the wonder and amazement of nature and science.
We believe that kindness begets kindness.
We believe in the power of community, the strength of people caring for each other, the trickle-down effect of a single act of kindness.
We believe in family.
We believe in raising children to be free thinkers, to know they are loved for their choices and guide them to make good ones.
We believe you have the power to change your life. To create a new destiny. to mold a future of happiness.
We believe in the power of prayer, the knowledge of a greater community striving to find strength in difficulties, and the resulting wonder.

We believe you do not need a God to find your soul. We believe you don’t need a God to live Jesus’s words. We believe you don’t need a God to get to heaven on earth.

We believe your spirit lives forever as a memory in the community you create. For ever and Ever.


VEGAS BABY! (I hope oh I hope) Dec 10, 2009

#Family Life

I’m whispering this post. Please do not wake Karma

I think we’re going to Vegas tomorrow. :: looks around for Murphy ::

Remember the last time?

(Written the day we cancelled our trip to Vegas, May 3rd, 2009)
- You can realize you are no longer going to Vegas, the trip you need both for work and mental health.
- You can cry about that fact.
- Three times.
- You can get really sort of pissed off about it but realize there’s nothing you can do as you watch your son teeter around in his diaper bark-coughing his runny nose all over the house and he hoarsely yells “DAINS! DAINS! CHOO CHOO!”
- You can realize what an asshole you are.

I’m afraid to say anything. Murphy listens.

But I think we’re going to Vegas tomorrow for one of my dearest friend’s birthday. It is going to be crackertastic.


So if I’m not here, it’s because I’m probably passed out from the sheer excitement of our first child-free trip since August 4th, 2003.


Just don’t tell Karma that.


The MIX 10 site boasts powerful, clean visual design and the fantastic user experience you’ve come t Dec 10, 2009


We’re proud to see MIX 10 launch it’s new website. Blue Flavor and Microsoft teamed up to deliver this fantastic site for the upcoming Mix conference in Las Vegas, March 15-17 2010.

The MIX 10 site boasts powerful, clean visual design and the fantastic user experience you’ve come to expect from Blue Flavor. Transparency, texture and tranquil colors with a dash of Ajax and jQuery create a pleasing site which guides the user to sessions, speakers, registration and technomania. It’s an honor to work on a site by, for, and in hope of a better web. As always, it’s a pleasure working with Microsoft. We celebrate the launch with you!

mix Home

Mix Sessions

Mix Regisger

Also posted at Blue Flavor.

Have yourself a Racially Diverse Christmas Dec 09, 2009

#Family Life

It seems to me that Racism is gone. I mean, we have a black president. Can’t we all just get along and sing koombia and all that shit? Seriously, people. Do I care what you look like? No. Do I care if you’re an asshole? Very Much So.

It would appear, though, that race is most certainly not something that we joke about being a thing of the past. “Ohyea, sorry ‘bout them segregation shit. That’s TO-TALLY our bad.”  (Which, for the record, I did not live back then and thus can only apologize for shit my ancestors did and let you know I think it’s bullshit, too. And hey! How ‘bout we grab a beer! Because deep down I’m totally Canadian. Peace Love Beer. Amen.)

No, it appears race is being brought up over and over. I’m fairly sheltered here on the left coast with a variety of people and a city that accepts. What do I care who your lover is? Am I going to judge you for looking like a punk-ass-kid? Yea. Am I going to judge you because your hair is kinky and mine isn’t? No. So do you have control over how I view you? Absolutely. If you look like a ganstah wanna-be I’m going to think, “Hey look at that stupid ganstah-wanna-be.” But if you look like a person living a life and being yourself? I say Go Girl. Or Man. Or Lover Of All Men. Whatever. Do yer thing, yo.

So why then have I had SIX, I shit you not, conversations about race in as many days? Why then do I hear it coming up on the radio? On the TV? On the DISNEY-CHANNEL-OMG-IS-NOTHING-SACRED. Why?

I don’t know. Or I didn’t know. Until I heard my children singing a, what used to be, lovely christmas song and I realized: THEY ARE RACIST BIGOTS.

“And may all your Christmases be WHITE.”

Oh dear lord! NO! NO NO. I’m not teaching my children that shit!


No, children, let us sing, in honor of ALL people, “And may all your Christmases be Racially Diverse.”

We? Are holding on to a myth people. One started by a secret under-cover racist homophobe. (Tossing in the homophobe for good measure that racist bastard.)


There he is: Father Racist.

Jolly Holly and all that.

So I searched the internet and found this incriminating photo:


I’m not shocked, really. For years now it’s been seeping in to our minds this time of year. We’re mummys just mouthing the crap we’re grown up with.

The cycle ends here.

No more while I wish you a White Christmas. Hellzno. I will, instead, hope for a rainy, somewhat humid and possibly a tad warm so you can get a sun-burn red christmas. Or an eerily frigid blue christmas. Or perhaps a carbon-friendly green christmas. But I will never hope all your Christmases are white again.



A note: This post is written tongue-in-cheek. I do that from time to time. You know, sorda lose my shit on the ridiculousness?

If you say anything bad, I’ll call you a racist.

And probably a punkass kid, too

Clean Food is Dirty! Dec 09, 2009


A wonderful post by my friend Laura who inspired this whole mess to begin with.

I have an egg dealer. I found her on CraigsList. Every week or two, I meet her at her downtown office in the middle of the workday for my goods. I slip her some cash - $2/dozen (the best price in town) - and she hands over a couple cartons of product. I’m totally addicted.

If you’ve never tasted a fresh, local free-range egg, then you really have never enjoyed an egg before. My pastured eggs are gorgeous. Their vibrant orange yolks stand proudly above pillowy whites; there’s nothing yellow or watery about these beauties. They are flavorful. They are real…

...And they are dirty!

Nine times out of ten, my eggs come out of their reused cartons caked with mud, straw, chicken feathers and….well, chicken poop.

It’s ironic to me that the cleanest food (that is, according to Michael Pollan’s definition, the food that is least processed and closest to its source) is often the dirtiest. We’re so used to sterile displays of pressure-washed potatoes and waxen-cheeked apples that we are affronted by a trace of dirt or the telltale leavings of a worm.

I started buying farm eggs because I was really disgusted by the way American chickens of mass-production are raised. (Just Google egg factory farms for a lot of horrific visuals.) What’s kept me paying the big bucks, though, is the flavor and quality of pastured eggs. They’re simply better.

And, it turns out, they’re better for you.

In 2007, Mother Earth News led an investigation comparing the nutritional value of pastured farm eggs to “the official egg nutrient data from the USDA for “conventional” (i.e. from confined hens) eggs.” The results are dramatic. Eggs from hens who are allowed to forage outdoors for food (in addition to supplementary grains and meal), as compared to hens in cramped factory-farmed cages (the USDA standard condition), typically contain:
• 1⁄3 less cholesterol
• 1⁄4 less saturated fat
• 2⁄3 more vitamin A
• 2 times more omega-3 fatty acids
• 3 times more vitamin E
• 7 times more beta carotene

More recent tests last year showed that pastured eggs contain 4-6 times more vitamin D than their supermarket counterparts. (Here’s a nifty graphic to really make that information pop.)

In every area, pastured eggs are better for you - supporting Michael Pollan’s mantra of “You are what you eat eats too.”

And it makes sense, right? A chicken with free-roaming access to fresh greens and juicy bugs will be a healthier chicken than the one crammed into a cage and fed nothing but corn and soy by-products (or - yum! - bits of its sisters and children - or even other animals, euthanized pets and roadkill not excluded, for added protein) and a cocktail of chemicals (often including arsenic, antibiotics and steroids).

Sadly, the healthy stuff is often cost prohibitive. In areas where pastured eggs are in high demand, it’s not unusual to see them at farmers markets for upwards of $5/dozen. You’ll do much better to search for eggs on your local CraigsList page, newspaper classifieds, or even those hand-lettered signs on telephone poles at the edge of town.

The cheapest (yet more time-intensive) way to get gorgeous, local free-range eggs is to venture into animal husbandry yourself and keep some laying hens in your backyard. Many American cities will allow you a few chickens in an urban lot (roosters are, understandably, outlawed within city limits). The website is an excellent starting point for those with interest in raising their own eggs.

Whichever route you decide to go, I hope you’ll see the value of “dirty” eggs. They’re better for the chickens and they’re better for you, plus they taste amazing - what’s not to love?

Eat clean: Live (and let live) well!

Writing Challenge 1- Official Launch : Character Dec 06, 2009



This Monday, as part of the official kickoff of {W}rite-of-passage, I’m doing a story about “Character.” This challenge originally came from Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott and is the structure for which we’re working. This challenge comes after a small rant I made and decided to do something.

Welcome to my something. I hope you join in.


* Preface: A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to travel to Paris with a friend who lived in Paris and was able to give me a complete tour, on foot, in six hours. One day I’ll eventually share that story with you. For now, though, I am focusing on a character we met on our last leg of the trip waiting for the train back to Leiden. The extent of our meeting was the time it took to take this photo. I saw him from a distance. He is the perfect subject for this post.

He’s been waiting in the station for six hours. He’s working on his last cigarette. The partner is late. He is always late. He misses the train every third trip and Chakov is left waiting in the station. He mutters under his breath as he puffs. He’s another face in the sea of people traveling, waiting, touring.

He sees two tourist across the station taking photos of a homeless man sleeping in the corner. He over-hears the man lean in, “Only in Paris, a homeless man wears a fur coat. Even their homeless are more classy.” She chuckles. He gravitates to them out of boredom. They look American. He has never been to America but hears terrible things. “Phaw, they are all fat!” His grandfather would never have allowed him a trip to the land of abundance.

He asks the man to take his photo. “AH! An American Photographer!” He glances as his partner finally walks up. He laughs. The partner eyes the scene and flicks his cigarette to the ground. He’s disgusted. Chakov looks over his shoulder and sees the tension oozing from his pours. He speaks in French, “I understand you had to wait but you are jerking off with American Tourist?” Chakov fights back, “It was a photo! I had a photo taken. Robert is waiting for you and is bitter. You are late again.”

The two are lost again in the sea of travelers. It is raining lightly as they walk in to the street, the Americans long forgotten now as discussion turns to business. “We have not received the boxes. You do not have them with you, I see,” Chakov glances around dramatically, “so what is your excuse this time?” Pallo is used to his jabs. Chakov has been wanting Partner for 3 years but is too young to understand the implications of that position. “Do not worry of the packages, Chakov, I have it under control.” Pallo speaks to him as if he’s a child, which he almost always act as, and feels already knows more than necessary.

They turn the corner together, the tension growing, as each man contemplates his role in the company. Alpha. Omega. Partner. Prodigy. Suddenly they are confronted by a gang of tall men holding guns. The Ally is dark. This is not the way they usually travel. Chakov glances at Pallo, “What do you mean by this?” he accuses.


Other Participants today include